


Katie Radigan

by Starwaia



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Characters based on TF2 classes, Gen, Kate the Scout is in over her head, Old work, Suspense, horror themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8329291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starwaia/pseuds/Starwaia
Summary: Originally posted on my Deviantart acct (Uberviolet)
BLU scout Kate Radigan follows instructions that supposedly lead to vital intelligence, but it turns out to be a trap, one designed by someone or someones much crueler than she could have imagined. A chase ensues, one that Kate might not escape alive...





	

“Okay, third left turn, vital intelligence right around the corner... hello?”  
_There's nothing here, I suppose this was just some dumb prank…_  
“Hello? Okay, time to get out of here. NICE TRY, BASTARDS!”  
Kate Radigan, BLU Scout. Third in Class. Hopelessly entangled in a world so complex, the only way to survive is not to think about it. Unfortunately, not thinking is what got her into this mess in the first place.  
_Gonna be late for dinner... probably only soup left…_  
“Ah. Miss Radigan. You made it.”  
Kate jerks to attention, almost dropping the note that brought her here.  
_Better be a good reason why you dragged my ass out here, bastard_  
Nothing happens for a full minute of silence.  
“Alright, Mister Detrick, do the honors.”  
A bolt of white electrical energy shoots from the window of the building Kate is standing near.  
_What the-_  
The scout tries to flinch, and suddenly finds that she can't move a muscle.  
_Bastards! This isn't funny!_  
Two figures walk around the corner of the old warehouse.  
“Now, Mister Detrick, I know this is a delicate matter. You gave me one of yours, I give you one of mine.”  
_Who are these creepos? That sounds like a lady. Thought I was the only girl here. Damn those men for giving me grief!_  
The figures are backlit, but suddenly the dialog makes the scene shift into focus. That voice sounds horribly like- _The Administrator! What is she doing here? She never comes out unless it's inspection time._ Kate is terrified of her. She has every right to be, given that many a BLU member has been 'replaced' at some time or another. But what is the bitch doing _here?_  
_I'm Third in Class! There's no way she can replace me, I'm the best in my squad! And who is this 'Mister Detrick'? I bet I can kick his ass!_  
“Are you sure this is the traitor? It's just a kid.”  
A cold, cruel laugh. “Does it matter? You have your plaything. I'll be attending to other matters.”  
_Traitor? There's a traitor? Bet it's Mickey. Damn fool never does anything right._  
The second voice sounds like they might listen to reason. Perhaps if the Administrator leaves, Kate can settle this and get back in time for dessert.  
_C'mon, c'mon, unfreeze me so we can sort this out!_  
The immobile scout attempts to squint, but even her eyelids aren't responding to her frantic thought commands. The backlit figure is leaning casually against the wall. Tall, with the body type for a sniper or something, but not really skinny enough. Maybe a spy. The Administrator nods to the figure, then stalks off. Which is to say she walks away like she normally does. Kate ponders for a moment what business would take up so much of the despicable woman's time. Surely not a random inspection? Christ, she hasn't cleaned her room in weeks!  
(Protip: Kate has a little big problem of being Totally in Denial.)  
The figure, who Kate has decided is probably a spy (Damn shifty bastards, always being sneaky and crap), steps forward.  
“Looks like it's just you, and me.”  
Kate still can't blink, and too much light is glinting off his tailored uniform.  
His tailored _RED_ uniform.  
_Whoa, whoa. Wait. This isn't- nah, he's probably undercover. That's it. Undercover._  
“You're a scout, aren't you?”  
She hears a click, and suddenly finds herself mobile. She stumbles, then flinches back.  
_That's a sharp looking knife! What do you think you are do-_  
“I suggest you run. I don't want to get too much blood on my suit.”  
_Whoa. Okay. RED spy. Run. RUN!_  
No weapon. She didn't think to bring one. Who would attack her in the old, spooky, abandoned fortress?  
In retrospect, not bringing backup was one of her stupider ideas.  
_Do what you do best._  
A part of her is already wondering what the Admin was doing with a RED spy. She's had her doubts about the system before, but she always pushed them away. This is a job, after all, and she's had work to do. Never mind being too busy trying to stay alive.  
The spy is just standing there watching her. She glances back once, then dashes toward the perimeter, hoping maybe she can climb over the fence or something. Once she gets out of here she can decide what to do about the apparent treachery of the Admin.  
She hears behind her a woosh, indicating that the spy has cloaked. She has almost made it to the fence. She stops, panting, then reaches out to grab hold of the chain-linked mesh in front of her.  
“I wouldn't touch that if I were you.”  
Kate jumps about a mile and whips around, hearing the laughter of the RED spy right behind her. She reaches blindly and shoves _someone_ into the metal that is _probably_ electrocuted, thanks for the warning, jerkface!  
...nothing happens. _Well, crap._ Kate jumps backward as a carbon copy of herself emerges from invisibility.  
“I'm Miss Katie Radigan! I'm Third in Class, best in my squad!” The voice is a silver tongued mockery of her own, followed by a sadisdic cackle that she never imagined her vocal cords could make. The voice turns cruel. “I'm Katie Radigan, and I have no idea what sort of hell I've gotten into. RUN, LITTLE GIRL. RUN AND HIDE. YOUR NIGHTMARE HAS BEGUN.”  
The other Kate's face twists, and suddenly there's a grinning spy right in the scout girl's face. She notices he has a scar along his neck, possibly from shaving, probably from something a lot worse.  
She never wants to be this close to such a man ever again.  
“RUN.”  
She runs. This time she doesn't look back. She heads toward the opening in the fence that she had entered through, only to find that it isn't where she remembers it was. _Crap._ She looks back and doesn't see the spy anywhere. _Double crap._ Darting into a doorway, she decides to lose him in the mazelike corridors of the old dormitory building. Never mind thinking that the Engineer in her squad could have designed the place much better than whoever actually did, she instead is grateful that she has a chance to lose her pursuer. As long as she doesn't get lost, that is.

 

“I can smell your fear, Katie Radigan. You can't hide from me, girl.”  
She is cornered. There is no way out. That window just happened to be too high for her to reach, even with the highest jump her exhausted form can muster. The scout knows that this is it. She has to beat this guy or die trying. That's all this is. A game.  
_A game._  
So that's what it is. She can hardly believe it. Hadn't her superiors told her time and again that this was War? That the goddamn RED bastards deserved to die, that they took over almost every company and had no competition? That they were plotting against society, building their fortresses and camps to claim territory that rightfully belonged to the Builders' League?  
Then the knife is at her throat, and she is crying. Not sobbing, but tears keep streaming from her eyes.  
It was obvious. All the propaganda, all the similarities between the teams, the symmetry of the bases that she was required to memorize, so she didn't get lost with the intelligence it was her job to steal. All the drinking, all the fights, all the men acting like this was sport and tea with crumpets. The leader shooting himself. It all added up.  
“Wait.”  
The knife hesitates. It wavers for an instant, and in that instant, she has to know.  
“This-”  
The last moments of her life and all she can think of is people dying. Not her, necessarily, but her friends. Teammates. Friends.  
“This... isn't real...”  
The knife shakes with the spy's laughter. The sound is quiet, subtle, but it strikes home.  
_Home is where the heart is._  
“Silly girl, why did you think you were fighting such a pointless war?  
More laughter. The scout, knees weak, lets herself go limp in resignation. This is it. Overtime. Eventually the clock of second chances always runs out.  
_Goodbye, mother._  
Before she dies, however, there is one last question.  
“You- you mean, you mean all this-”  
_all we've worked for, all I've fought for_  
“You mean it's just a guh- a guh-”  
_is just some sadistic whim? Who would do this? The Administrator? The League?_  
“Just a- just a game?”  
_Who COULD do this?_  
A twist of a blade, and the world begins to drip away in smears of red and stains on her shirt.  
“Of course not.”  
“This isn't a game.”  
“It's a lifestyle.  
“Good bye.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Mom?”  
“Yes, Katie?”  
“I'm gonna be a builder when I grow up!”  
“That's nice dear. Goodnight.”  
End.

**Author's Note:**

> As described on it's Deviantart page, this fic is the first work of fanfiction I ever wrote that I was completely satisfied with. I wrote and posted it in August of 2013, after a dream I had involving what ended up becoming the beginning of this fic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I remember enjoying writing it!


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